“Drat those cats!”

What is the barnyard come to?  Squirmy kittens running loose, climbing in the hay stack, getting underfoot, behaving like they own the place!  Feed Lot took a turn for the worse recently, chasing the kittens into an old abandoned cow shed.  I missed them when we got home from our morning walk to the barn, and since they are still getting used to their surroundings I decided I should go back and bring them home with me.  After a lengthy search I found Feed Lot banging his head and scraping his horns on the wall of the old shed.  He was pawing the dirt with his hooves and blowing and snorting into the open doorway.

Inside were trapped two very frightened kittens.  When he heard my voice, Oscar Wild peeked out and made a dash for me.  I gathered him up and we went in search of TuTu2. Figuring the coast was clear, she bailed out of an opening in back of the shed. After scooping her up, I began walking home with both kittens tucked under my arms when I heard the pounding thud of hooves.  I looked around to see a galloping, 1,200 pound steer coming around the corner of the shed hot on our trail.  He was rapidly closing the distance between us and I didn’t know whether to stand or try to outrun him.  I quickly decided my better option was to call his bluff, because to escape with two fairly hefty kittens in tow while wearing mud encrusted muck boots had a dim chance of success!

As the feisty, bellowing steer got closer I turned to face him, determined to do whatever was necessary to deal with the situation.  By this time four sets of razor-sharp kitten claws became enmeshed in my rib cage, aiding in my ability to let go with a hair raising screech that stopped Feed Lot in his tracks. He blinked, sides heaving from his exertions, and stood looking at us.  He licked his nostrils, waved his huge head from side to side a couple of times and watched as I took a few steps back, then turned and headed home at a jaunty pace.  I looked back just once and he was still standing where we had left him.